


Outside the Walls

by aravenwood



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Gen, Panic Attacks, Poor Noctis Lucis Caelum, Poor Prompto Argentum
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-31
Updated: 2018-07-31
Packaged: 2019-06-19 12:23:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15509799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aravenwood/pseuds/aravenwood
Summary: The world isn't a safe place outside the kingdom, especially not for the heir to the throne. That's a lesson Noct will never forget.Written for the bad things happen bingo prompt "forced to kneel".





	Outside the Walls

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pan2fel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pan2fel/gifts).



> Hey, this was written for the bad things happen bingo prompt "forced to kneel/bow". It was requested by pan2fel over on Tumblr, and thank you for it! It was a lot of fun to write and turned out longer than I had initially anticipated. And maybe a little darker, but most of my FFXV fics turn dark so that should be of no surprise.
> 
> A quick note that in this fic, I imagined Noct to be around 18-19 years old, so it's set at some point before the start of the game. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy it!

The voice came out of nowhere. Noct and Prompto had been locked in a discussion about which assassin was the best – Noct argued for Altair because “he’s the guy who sparked off the series, he’s clearly the most important one” while Prompto insisted on Edward Kenway because “dude, he’s a pirate who fell into the assassin world and met so many famous pirates and had a ship – Noct, did you SEE how awesome the Jackdaw is?” – while Ignis and Gladio led them along a narrow path back to the car. This was their first time outside the city in months and while Noct didn’t consider himself much of an outdoorsman – apart from fishing, of course – he was enjoying the solitude. It was nice to relax without worrying about someone seeing him doing something he shouldn’t be doing. He almost didn’t want to go back.

“Well, well, well. What do we have here?”

Noct froze mid-step and grabbed Prompto’s arm, stopping him in his tracks. Their eyes met, both wide and afraid, neither of them wanting to turn around and see who had spoke. But in front of them, Gladio and Ignis had spun almost immediately and now had hands on their weapons. That made Noct want to turn around even less, but he did so anyway, dragging Prompto around with him.

There were three men, all of them built tall and muscular like Gladio but with darker eyes and an air around them that had Noct fighting to hold his ground. Each man clutched a weapon which was pointed at them; two greatswords and a gun that was bigger and more intimidating than anything he’d seen Prompto train with. Whoever they were, they wanted more than just a hello.

“Can I help you, gentlemen?” Ignis asked smoothly as he and Gladio pushed to the front of their small group. Gladio’s broad shoulders blocked most of Noct’s view, but when he craned his head he could just about see what was going on.

The man with the shotgun stretched his mouth into a wide, toothy grin while his eyes narrowed dangerously. “You with the Crown?” he said in a grunt. His accent was thicker than any Lucian’s, his voice deep and threatening. The gun didn’t waver in his hands.

“The Crown? We’re afraid not, my friend and I here are just teaching these boys to hunt. And yourselves? Hunters, I’m presuming?” Ignis answered. The lie slid off his tongue easily as though he’d rehearsed it – considering it was Ignis, he probably had.

“Huntin’ huh?” One of the men carrying a greatsword peered around Ignis’s body until his eyes found Prompto. “Boy looks like he’d faint at the first sign of a fight. He ain’t gonna be any use, you’re wasting your time with him.”

Prompto flushed scarlet. His entire body wilted, his eyes lowered to the ground. But the man didn’t look away. He kept staring, then in one smooth move ran his tongue over his lower lip. Noct flinched and dragged Prompto behind Gladio, exposing himself in the process.

All eyes were on him in an instant. The man with the shotgun looked him up and down several times, then exchanged glances with his companions. One nodded and took a step forwards, sword raised.

“Is there a problem?” Gladio growled, raising his own weapon in retaliation. The man just smiled at him and took another step. Then he raised his hand and all hell broke loose.

There was a shout from somewhere around them, then the crack of a gun. Not even a second later Gladio was on the ground with blood oozing from a wound in his leg. Another crack and this time it was Ignis knocked down, a wound on the left side of his stomach. His hands clutched at it, already soaked, as he tossed his head from side to side, searching for the hidden enemies.

With the two of them down, the men were grinning as they closed in.

“What do you want?” Noct snapped. He clenched his hands, which were shaking too badly to summon a weapon.

The man with the shotgun, now lowered at his side, was the first to reach them. He grabbed Prompto first, pushing him towards one of the other men who caught him easily and wrapped an arm around his chest, holding him close. The other hand tangled in the blond’s thick hair and dragged his head back as far as it would go, ignoring – or perhaps enjoying – the resulting scream. Noct was dragged away from Ignis and Gladio, fighting all the way. The man was strong – stronger than Gladio, even – and took every kick or thrash in his stride, not even tiring. “A bit of advice for next time, Highness – you want to pretend to be one of us, leave the fancy car at home.”

The Regalia. “You were following us,” Noct accused as hands tightened on his shoulders. His eyes met Gladio’s, who was seething at being unable to move. He was Noct’s shield, he wasn’t supposed to be helpless.

Instead of answering, the man with the shotgun just pushed Noct into the arms of the other man. Hands locked around his arms and twisted him until he was facing his friends. “So you’re the old bastard’s heir? Fuck me,” he growled and ran a hand down Noct’s cheek. Noct flinched and pulled away, and the man narrowed his eyes in a glare. “Show some fucking respect,” he sneered and backhanded Noct. The hit was so powerful that Noct was knocked off his feet, held upright only by the hands holding him up.

“Noct!” Prompto cried. “Stop it!” He sounded close to tears.

“Shut him up,” the man snarled. A moment passed and Noct was forced to watch as a dirty rag was forced between Prompto’s teeth. The blond whimpered as his eyes met Noct’s, his fear so apparent that Noct began to struggle once more.

“Leave him alone!” he shouted, thrashing from side to side and ignoring the pain in his back. He’d forgotten to do his exercises this morning and he was feeling it now as he was forced to straighten up when all he wanted to do was curl up.

The man with the shotgun smirked. “Kneel,” he ordered.

Noct didn’t move.

“Get on your knees.”

Nothing.

“Get on your goddamn knees or I’ll blow blondie’s pretty little brains out.” He lifted the shotgun and aimed it at Prompto’s face, never once tearing his eyes away from Noct. His gaze was hungry and threatening, and having it on him was making Noct feel sick. Or perhaps it was Prompto’s expression which was doing that; his eyes were wide and anxious, his chest heaving with each panicked breath, but there was something else there too – determination, acceptance. He was willing to die for his Prince. For his friend.

Noct fell heavily to his knees, wincing a little at the pain which reverberated up and down his legs. He kept his head held high and his jaw clenched, refusing to allow his fear turn him into a quivering wreck. They would not take his pride.

“They have you trained well, Prince.” The man with the shotgun scoffed at the final word, which only strengthened Noct’s resolve. _Be proud, my son_ – his father’s words echoed in his mind, a comforting presence which had him almost smiling despite the situation.

But then something else happened. Something Noct had not expected, something which he would never stop seeing in his dreams – the man with the shotgun began to unfasten his belt.

Prompto cried out through the gag and began to struggle. On the ground, Ignis and Gladio were struggling to their feet, ignoring the final man’s threatening stance. Both were bleeding heavily and looking pale but determined even as their bodies trembled with the effort of supporting their own weight.

“Don’t touch him,” Gladio growled and pulled out his greatsword. Before he could raise it, however, Noct felt the cold steel of the shotgun on his forehead and the bigger man had no choice but to stand down. Noct met Gladio’s eyes and he was unable to keep his fear hidden. Tears spilled down his cheeks but he clenched his fists at his sides. He kept his jaw tight. He would not let this happen.

The man with the shotgun laughed. “His life or his pride. Tough choice, isn’t it? Well let me decide for you. We didn’t come alone. My men are armed and they’re watching. One wrong move and they shoot you and I shoot your prince. That goes for all of you. They’ll be watching.” And his hands went back to his belt.

As if proving his point, a fourth man stepped out of the shadow of the trees. He had a pistol in one hand and a cell phone in the other. The cell phone was aimed at Noct, the gun at Ignis. “A nice little present for Daddy. Wouldn’t it be nice for him to know how pathetic his heir really is? Wouldn’t it be nice for everyone to know?”

“Noct,” Ignis called. He’d been silent until now, offering reassuring smiles and mouthing that it was going to be ok. Noct had honestly thought he didn’t have the strength to speak, and his voice did sound a little shaky. But he held his head high just like Noct did. “Close your eyes. You too, Prompto. I don’t want either of you to see this.”

A part of Noct wanted to argue. A part wanted to be strong, to stare the man down until he cracked, but he knew that if he saw what was to come then he wouldn’t be able to stay strong. He knew that he would beg, and he wouldn’t do that. That was what they wanted. So he met eyes with Prompto, watched the blond to make sure his eyes were closed and then did the same himself.

A few moments later, gunshots filled the air.

Upon hearing the first shots, he flinched and tried to get away, but the grip on his shoulders was unrelenting and only caused more pain. Instead of escaping, he was dragged to his feet. An arm wrapped around his neck, the other around his waist. He struggled as more gunshots echoed, then a voice spoke. He couldn’t make out the words though, his heart beating too loudly in his ears and his breaths too fast. It sounded several times, each time followed by more shots.

He opened his eyes and found three bodies scattered across the ground.

“No!” he screamed and threw his head back as hard as he could. As it made contact, pain exploded in his skull and he staggered forwards clutching it, the arms suddenly gone. He fell to his knees, shaking and gasping, too afraid to look up and see the bodies of his friends. They were dead, they were dead and it was all his fault. One of them had moved to help him, maybe, or maybe they’d just twitched and it had been taken the wrong way. He choked on a sob and curled forwards, gasping desperately for air that wouldn’t come. They were dead. They were dead and he couldn’t breathe. They were dead and now he was going to die.

Then came the crack of another shot. He didn’t flinch this time because he couldn’t, paralysed with fear and grief. This was meant to be a fun trip, a break from the stress that was real life. How could it have gone downhill so fast? They hadn’t even set the tents up yet.

“Prince Noctis? It’s alright, it’s over now.”

He knew that voice. He’d heard jokes in that voice, heard stories, heard orders called when he and Prompto sat in on watching the Kingsglaives train. It was a voice he associated with power. A voice that was safe. He lifted his head and his eyes found Nyx’s. The man had blood around his nose and mouth, and his voice was a little thicker than normal. But his eyes were soft as he stripped off his jacket and wrapped it around Noct’s shoulders, moving slowly like he was dealing with a frightened animal.

Over his shoulder, Noct could see several other members of the Kingsglaive hovering around Ignis and Gladio. The two of them were watching Noct with pained expressions, flinching at every hand on their wounds. Their eyes were hard and filled with regret. They blamed themselves.

Cor had come along too. He was sitting on the ground next to Prompto, who was doubled over and vomiting into the bushes. Every heave came with a loud sob which filled the air and made Noct want to grab him and tell him that everything was going to be alright, but he didn’t want to lie. It wasn’t alright, nothing about this was alright, and it wouldn’t be for a long time. He shifted and buried his face in Nyx’s chest, flinching as hands touched his back until his brain registered that it wasn’t the man with the shotgun, it was Nyx and Nyx was safe. The thought had him sobbing once more. He kept going over in his head what could have happened, what was supposed to happen, and suddenly he couldn’t blame Prompto for being sick because he was feeling nauseous himself.

“Shhh, it’s over now,” Nyx soothed, rocking himfrom side to side like he was comforting an infant. Noct only sobbed harder. He knew, and Nyx knew, and everyone there knew, that it was far from over. He could still feel the harsh grip on his shoulders as he was forced to the ground, could still hear the harsh sound of a zipper being unfastened and Ignis warning him not to look. All of it was still there in his mind, and he wasn’t sure that it would ever be gone. He clung to Nyx like letting go meant bringing the men back so they could finish the job. No, this would never be over. Not to him.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
